


Participation Medals of the Heart

by Onceyourempire



Series: Medals of the Heart [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Star Trek: Into Darkness Spoilers, Unrequited Love, it's typical major character death for the series no one else dies dont worry lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onceyourempire/pseuds/Onceyourempire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ah, unrequited love. </p><p>When your best</p><p>isn’t enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Participation Medals of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by and title from http://asofterstartrek.tumblr.com/post/66242595102/participation-medals-of-the-heart which showed up on my dash and promptly left me dead in the dirt. Also, it's my roommate/the Bones to my Jim's birthday tomorrow and I was like "you know what im gonna do besides buying you that thing you want for your birthday" "what" "im writing you onesided jimbones based on that thing."
> 
> She looked really happy which I assumed meant I had the go-ahead.
> 
> Happy birthday Rachel have fun being old ;)))))))))))

☆

This bright boy is sitting next to the only free seat as Len is hauled back to the main cabin and in-between the anger and fear Len finds himself thinking that it could be worse.

When he, in another moment when his mouth runs off without his brain’s permission, rambles to the kid about all the ways they could die in space, he isn’t greeted with an awkward smile and silence. Instead, he gets a retort that’s quick and sharp, which is when Len really looks at his seat-mate for the first time. He looks like he recently got beat five ways to hell, and his eyes are bitterly blue. His face says he’s as fucked up as Len feels, and Len likes that.

He offers his name and his flask.

Jim (a plain name, perfect for someone from a plain town but ill-fit for that face) takes it and it’s the start of something.

Len’s all broken bits and sharp edges but when he squints at Jim and offers to clean up some of the grosser cuts while they’re flying, he feels a little softer. It’s the best he can do, and Jim seems to know that. He smiles and it makes his eyes look less bitter and more blue.

☆

Len enters their room to see Jim face down on the floor with blood on his knuckles. He can’t see Jim’s face, but he doesn’t have to. He’s seen this same scene enough times.

“Again? Really?”

“You say that like this happens every day.” Jim mumbles into the short carpet and Len sighs through his nose.

“Close enough.”

But he gets the first aid kit and makes Jim sit with his back to one of the beds. He makes him drink water, and shushes him when he mutters about how the hydrogen peroxide stings. He wishes he could do more. They’ve been friends for a whole year now, and that might not be a lot in the scheme of things but it’s a long time when you’ve been basically attached at the hip and have seen the worst of each other fairly regularly. They’re both so fucked up, Len knows this, but he thinks that they should be trying to make each other better instead of worse. He doesn’t know how but, as he starts cleaning Jim’s split brow, he wants to try so badly.

He chews the inside of his cheek as he tapes the gauze over Jim’s brow. He’d felt the same when his marriage started to crack. It shakes him up to feel this again when he bombed so spectacularly last time.

“Thanks.” Jim says, and when Len meets his eyes the edges are crinkled from a smile. “You’re not a bad nurse, despite your griping.” Len scoffs but smiles back. “I wouldn’t gripe if you didn’t jump into messes all the time. I get that you have this fascination with the whole blood and gore thing but maybe you should try something less destructive. You thought about being a vigilante instead of a Star Fleet captain?”

Jim laughs and, with Len’s help, stands up. He throws an arm over Len’s shoulders and a grin spreads over his face. Len wants to tell him to be careful with his split lip but can’t bring himself to ruin that smile.

“You know you’d miss me around here, Bones. Besides, tights? Capes? I don’t think I could pull off the look.” Jim puts on an act of thoughtfulness before saying, “Well, I can pull off any look, but then I’d make all the other superheroes look bad.” Len rolls his eyes but the elbow he throws into Jim’s side to get him to lay off is gentle.

“I’d miss you like I’d miss lice that I’d had for a year. Let go so I can put the kit away.” Jim snorts but does as he asks. Len puts away the kit and is about to ask if Jim finally got more milk because they’ve been out for a week and this is insane now when he feels a tug at the back of his uniform shirt. He turns and is pulled into a hug. He stiffens, awkward though he should be used to Jim’s way of showing affection, but takes a deep breath and hugs him back.

“Really, Bones. Thanks. I’d be fucked without you.” Jim says, quiet and sincere. Bones swallows, hard, and puts his chin on Jim’s shoulder. “Same goes, kid.” is all he says in response, but pulling back and seeing Jim’s brilliant smile lets him know it was enough.

Maybe he doesn’t have to do more than he already does to help Jim, he thinks as watches Jim walk away and put on a jacket. Maybe this is as good as he can do, and that's alright. They’ll heal, in time. If being a doctor has taught him anything, it’s that all things heal with time. Jim, a smile still on his lips, says he’s going to get milk. Len nods and turns away, ignoring the scary thought that the things that the body can’t heal are cured with an defining and unavoidable end.

He’s doing his best, he reminds himself as he settles as his desk, and Jim is too. Nothing can go wrong if they’re both trying. They’ll be okay.

☆

He’s seen the way Jim gazes fondly at Gaila and although Jim gazes fondly at people of all genders pretty often, the fact that Len knows this one personally makes him grit his teeth.

He’s jealous and he doesn’t want to really think about why, but it’s making his friendship with Gaila strained. She’s noticed and he knows she’s poking around to find out why. He should apologize and just relax, but dammit he’s old and he’s allowed to be an asshole sometimes.

He sighs and drops his pen onto his desk. He’s an asshole most of the time, but at least it’s usually because it’s covering up something else: worry, fear, affection. This time, he’s got no excuse. He frowns down at the practice medical record they have to study and diagnose for his first class the next morning. He’d be able to solve this in five minutes if he could focus, but instead he’s all caught up on Gaila and Jim and the fact that Jim is for sure over at Gaila’s. He feels like a sad teen girl at home on prom night and it’s frustrating.

He puts his face in his hands and rubs his eyes. 

He knows this feeling. This is how he felt when he first met Jocelyn and watched her on the arm of that asshole Clay Treadway. He’d been wild about her, lived on the rise and fall of her chest while she breathed, bloomed at the sight of her smile. He’d also been so angry at the sight of Clay, even when Jocelyn wasn't around, that he’d had to go out of his way to make sure he didn’t see Clay at all. He had been jealous, and that had been so easy to face back then.

He knows he’s jealous now, but it’s not simple. Jim is his best friend, and more than that in a way neither can put into words. This isn’t friend jealousy though -- the “oh my friend is mooning over someone and ignoring me, woe, what happened to bros before whatever etc blah blah”. He’s felt that before with Jim, and it had come in the form of eye-rolling and telling him to stop ignoring his friends for a quick fling. This was so much more --

\-- scary, honestly.

Len opens his eyes, takes a deep breath, and stands up. This diagnosis can wait until the morning. The class isn't until 10:30. He can wake up early and finish it beforehand. He's tired, as per usual, and his deep thoughts are getting too out of control for his tastes. If he keeps up this pondering, he’ll have to be honest with himself and although he’s gotten much better at that in the past few years, it still isn't something he actively seeks out. He's turning towards the bathroom when Jim comes bursting in, half dressed and wild-eyed.

“Jesus! What the hell have you been up to?”

“Things” is the breezy reply, followed by a wink and a slap on the back, “Going to bed? Good. Gotta be rested for the Kobiyashi Maru tomorrow!” 

“You’re not still going through with that, are you? Jim, what do you think is going to change? You can’t pass the Kobiyashi Maru. You’re not supposed to!”

“Well that’s just bullshit” Jim replies. He smiles, relaxed and happy, and Len finds himself believing that maybe Jim isn’t an ass-backwards crazy wackjob for trying this three times in a row. “What’s the point of a test you can’t pass?” Jim adds as throws his boots towards the door, his socks and uniform overshirt into the laundry, and wanders towards Len’s bed. He drops himself upon it and sighs, covering his eyes.

Len walks into the bathroom, shaking his head. Something obviously happened, but he doesn’t really want to know. Jim'll tell him if he wants to talk and -- 

“Gaila said that she loves me.” Jim calls out from the main room and Len sighs.

“And?” 

“I don’t know. I mean, I thought I loved her.”

“So did I. You keep giving her puppy eyes.”

“I do not! Anyway, she said it and it just...felt weird? I don’t know. I wasn’t happy or excited or anything. I still feel like I should love her, but maybe I was just in friend love. I don’t know, Bones. You’ve been married. Help me out here.”

Len laughs and, in doing so, almost chokes on his toothbrush, which only makes him laugh harder.

“Bones, are you dying? Please don’t die, I’m seriously in need of some old man advice.”

Len puts his toothbrush down, washes out his mouth as best as he can while still chuckling, and exits the bathroom.

“First off, I’m not that old. Secondly, I was married. Obviously, since we’re no longer married, I’m probably as good at love as you. You’re screwed, bud.”

Jim groans and rolls over, pressing his face into Len’s pillow. Len can barely make out Jim whining “Booooooooooones” into the pillow and only laughs again in response.

“Get off my bed. This isn’t the end of the world. Honestly, Gaila is just like you -- she thought she was in love and you’ll both look at each other tomorrow and laugh your asses off and be friends like you always have. Didn’t you just say we have to sleep well for your damned test tomorrow? Go clean up and get into your own bed, moron.”

“You are unsympathetic” Jim rolls over again, sits up, and says, “But probably right. I just -- I hoped this time would be different. I always do this. I’m kind of tired of it. I fall for all these people all the time and then it never sticks.”

Len hesitates before sitting next to him and putting an arm around Jim’s shoulders. Three years, and Len's still learning that Jim prefers physical comfort over words, but he's got it this time. He squeezes his friend’s shoulder and doesn’t make a sound. Jim leans against his shoulder and tucks his arm around Len’s waist. They sit there, quiet and thoughtful, for some time. Len notices that Jim needs a shower, but he's also warm and solid and the sight of his hair against Len’s dark sweater makes Len's chest ache. Jim’s fingers are all caught up in the cable knit, but they eventually loosen and let go as Jim slides away. He huffs a laugh and raised his eyebrows at Len.

“Sorry. I just -- sometimes I can’t contain my mess, you know?” He grins, loose and relaxed, and stands. “You’re used to it by now, right?” Len leans back on his elbows and smiles, his chest still aching and phantom fingers in his sweater.

“Sadly. But if I didn’t contain you, who would?” Jim laughs out loud at that and waves a dismissive hand at him before disappearing into the bathroom. Len closes his eyes and lets himself fall all the way back onto his bed.

Damn, he has it bad. He hadn’t wanted to ever say it, but he's just as crazy about Jim as he’d been about Joce. Of course, next time he's jealous he’ll whip himself into a denial frenzy again, but --

He's the one Jim trusts to pick up the pieces when he cracks and chips, and that has to be enough for him. Jim doesn’t do love, and Len's sure he wasn’t cut out for it either. What he has will have to satisfy him until he can learn to let go. Len wiggles under the covers and rolls towards the wall. He hopes it'll end be soon. He's not sure how long he can put up this front before he himself cracks wide open.

☆

Jim is dead on his table and the first thought that leaps to mind is why the hell no one called the C.M.O. when the captain of the goddamn ship was dying.

The second is that he’d better lean on something before his knees give out.

He leans on the table and looks down at the most important face in his world and thinks that he’s truly fucked up now. He fucked up falling in love and loving Jim Kirk in the first place -- the one spark always beyond the tips of his fingers -- but letting Jim get into this whole Khan mess and not helping him through the mission to the bitter end was a truly disastrous screw up. He knows that Jim tends to spiral out when not held in check, especially when his anger and pain takes over, but he’d been too busy with his head up his ass over Khan’s blood to grab his best friend’s arm and scream at him until Jim woke up and stopped letting his brilliant mind be ruled by the worst of his emotions.

Now Jim is dead, so cold and pale and looking pained even in the quiet of death, and Len can't ever fix that. He feels tears in his eyes and looks up at the faces of his friends while the first drops start to fall. He tries to choke back a sob, but it falls out anyway and he clutches the edge of the table as his legs start to shake. Is his vision blurring with tears or the start of a panic attack? He’s never had a panic attack before, but it runs in the family and now would be a pretty good kick start to them cropping up. They usually come up earlier, don't they? He blinks rapidly, and realizes he's diagnosing himself because if he doesn't distract himself, he’ll have to face the process of preparing Jim for a funeral instead.

He thinks he might throwing up.

Instead of doing that, he stumbles over to his desk and falls into the chair.

He’s tried his best, throughout his friendship with Jim, to always protect him. To help him grow, to allow him to see his better self. He’s worked to keep Jim’s ego and recklessness in check, bandaged wounds and pride, and has loved him with an abandon he’d never really felt before. He’s loved him so much that it sweeps him up sometimes and leaves him breathless when Jim turns to him with the radiant smile that makes him feel like he's Jim’s favorite person in the whole universe. He’s hugged him a thousand times, cuffed his ear just as much, and built this life-altering friendship with a man he’d stupidly let himself think was immortal as long as Len was around to fix him up.

But his best hadn't been enough this time.

Jim had never known he’d loved him -- or at least, Len had never said. Jim had gone running off, and Len hadn’t followed, had assumed that Spock would take care of him. He should have never -- why did he ever -- how could he ever -- He should have followed. He’d always followed before.

Jim is dead on the table behind him, and Len hadn’t been enough.

He curls his hands into balls, presses those balls to his eyes, and tries to not fall apart.

He hears a quiet squeak through the cloud of anger and pain, and opens his eyes to see the tribble on his desk move. He chokes out another sob, and looks at the vials that had contained Khan’s blood. They're empty now, unfortunately, but -- he could mess with the blood of one of Khan’s crew, but Len wasn’t sure how differences in genetic structure between members of Khan’s race could alter the serum he’d made the first time around. Better not to take chances if he could avoid it. He yells at one of his nurses to make sure Spock captures Khan alive, and shuffles frantically through his notes.

He made a huge mess last time, but this time --

This time, he could do it. He could fix it. 

Len takes a deep breath and, gathering his notes, starts walking towards the lab. He stops next to the examining table and looks down at Jim’s face. He has to be imagining it, but it looks like Jim’s face has smoothed out and released the pain it had previously held. He pushes back Jim’s hair with one hand.

“I’ve got you, kid. I’ve got you. I’ll see you soon.” He smiles, still teary-eyed, and picks up his pace as he walks away.

It would be enough. He could be enough, just this once.

☆

**Author's Note:**

> The music I listened to while writing this was the mix below:
> 
> http://8tracks.com/hopenoelle/i-ll-never-be-yours


End file.
